Page 2 of Dance for Me

“Wait, what?” Michelle asked loudly, causing Michelle’s voice to vibrate her ear. Yeah, the news shocked her, too.

Vanessa rested her head on the back of the seat. “Apparently, being hard working and driven isn’t what they’re looking for.”

What a bullshit line, Vanessa thought. Made her want to storm back up there and yank out Matilda’s fake extensions. She always did wonder what her hair looked like without the extra false volume. She had already thought about pulling at her roots but chickened out.

“I can always see if they need another nanny for hire?” Vanessa cringed at the thought. She wasn’t sure if she even knew how to change a diaper.

“Um… pass?”

“Yeah, good idea. I love you but don’t want you to end up on the news.”

“Funny.” But she let out a not so funny laugh. Her as a nanny? Never.

“Well, for what it’s worth, it’s definitely their loss,” Michelle replied. Vanessa heard screams from one of the kids in the background. “Shit V, I have to go. Susie just dropped oatmeal down her brother’s shirt. But text me later and we’ll set up dinner… I want to plot out when we can egg this bitch’s car.”

Vanessa smiled to herself. “Sounds good. Only the dinner part though.” She quickly added before hanging up. Though, that did sound like a good revenge, one she would never do. Besides, it’s not like Matilda owned her own car because that would have been unheard of.

Tucking the phone back into her bag, Vanessa wiped another silent tear from her cheek. She was going to be fine, she thought to herself, there are plenty of other opportunities out there. She lived in NYC for God’s sake. The city lived, ate, and breathed fashion. She would just see who needed a designer because she already had sketches to show. However, they were bad ones apparently.

She let out a frustrated groan and the taxi driver gave her a weird look.

Vanessa walked into her studio apartment and tossed her keys onto her kitchen counter. Sprinkles meowed from down below as she rubbed her back in between Vanessa’s legs.

Her apartment was small, but she loved it small. It was just enough space for her and her beloved cat. So, who cared if her bed shared space with the living room, or that her kitchen was about the size of her bathroom? She lived alone. Besides, the rent was out of this world expensive as it was. Living in a two-bedroom apartment here would have been stupid.

“Hey, my little ball of fluff.” Vanessa picked her all white cat up in her arms and kissed her tiny head. “At least I’ll never let you down, huh.” She scratched under Sprinkles’ chin and sat down with her on her sofa. Sprinkles curled in next to her while Vanessa pulled out her laptop and started searching through the job ads. “Better start now,” she said out loud to herself and her cat.

Nothing came close to what she was doing at her former job. She was only twenty-six and wasn’t going to settle for a job she didn’t want. Not when she used to be an assistant designer. No way, not when she worked at fashion week last year, helping Matilda dress the most upcoming and well-known models. How could she go from that, to a Starbucks barista? Or even a burger flipper. She shook her head.

Frustrated, Vanessa closed her laptop and sat back on her sofa. She thought about high school, how even before graduation, she knew she wanted to work with fashion. So, after graduation she applied to her local college and studied fashion design. Graduated with an associate degree in Arts. After that, she went back to get her bachelor’s degree in business and communication. She wanted to have a set future. One she wouldn’t have to worry about. After college, she applied for an internship at her former place of employment and got hired. Moved to the Big Apple and started her new life in the city and it was all history from there.

Vanessa took her hair clip out, letting her long chestnut locks fall over the sofa. She kicked off her midnight colored high heel pumps, that she bought on clearance at Bloomingdale’s, and checked her text message from Michelle.

Michelle: I hope u have the ice cream, cuz I brought the wine!

Before she could respond, a knock sounded at her door and Vanessa smiled. Standing in her doorway was Michelle, holding a wine bottle out in front of her. The morning from hell was about to end in some enjoyable, empty calories well wasted. It’s not like she had to worry about her weight. Not that she was stick thin by any stretch of the means, but she never really gained. Good genes.

“I really hope you didn’t leave a seven and five-year-old home by themselves,” Vanessa playfully joked.

“Funny, although I have thought about it before.” Michelle walked inside and Vanessa closed the door behind her. “I played sick and one of the other girls came and took over. Besides, my best friend needed some destressing.”

Vanessa took out some Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food from the freezer and got out two spoons. “Well, I am happy you played hooky. Getting drunk before noon sounds like a fucking blast at this point.”

They walked onto Vanessa’s balcony that overlooked Central Park and sat in the two chairs. Even though her apartment was a small studio, the view made up for it. “I’ll have you know, it’s a breakfast wine,” Michelle said. “Therefore, you drink it in the morning,” the two of them giggled.

She opened up the lid to the ice cream and shoveled a spoonful in her mouth while Michelle poured the wine. “You’re right, this is what you call destressing.” They both smiled and Vanessa stared out from her balcony with a sigh, “I will miss this view though.”

“Girl, you literally just got fired like one hour ago. Let’s not break out the sad funeral music yet,” Michelle sipped her wine. “I still can’t believe they fired you though.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I bet that bitch was just threatened by you.”

“Doubtful, but thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

“I’m serious! Your sketches kick ass. You’re the new up and coming, she’s the old and washed out,” Michelle bit out. “But… maybe now you can take some time to get back out there,” Michelle implied as she made a forward motion with her glass.

“Yeah, I’m going to redo my resume and…”

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